


Decoding Van Helsing (or Will the real Abraham Van Helsing please stand up)

by DizzyDrea



Series: This Isn't Twilight and He Doesn't Sparkle [3]
Category: Moonlight (TV), Numb3rs
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/M, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 03:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liz gets an education in Vampire lore—including an introduction to the real Abraham Van Helsing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decoding Van Helsing (or Will the real Abraham Van Helsing please stand up)

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this story was spawned by a line from _The War at Home_. It's probably a good idea to have read at least that story before you read this one. Part of the _This Isn't Twilight and He Doesn't Sparkle_ 'verse.
> 
> Disclaimer: Numb3rs belongs to The Barry Schindel Company, Scott Free Productions, CBS Television Studios and a lot of other people who aren't me. Moonlight is the property of Ron Koslov, Trevor Munson, Warner Bros Television, Silver Pictures Television and a lot of other people who aren't me. I'm doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

Liz Warner had come to the conclusion that dinner at the Craftsman was bizarre. That was the only word for it, in her opinion. 

She was sitting next to her boss and lover, Don Eppes, listening as conversation swirled around her. Across from her, Don's brother Charlie was speaking animatedly about a new theory he was investigating. Their father, Alan, looked on with pride, while Charlie's best friend and mentor, Doctor Larry Fleinhardt merely smiled indulgently.

On the surface, everything appeared normal. The smell of lasagna filled the air, and an excellent bottle of California Cabernet—chosen by Larry—rounded out the meal. But all was not as it seemed.

Two of the guests seated at the table had glasses of red liquid sitting in front of them. To an outsider, it might appear as though they were drinking wine, just like everyone else. They weren't.

Both Don and Larry—being vampires—were actually drinking blood. 

Liz couldn't help staring at Larry's glass as he lifted it to his lips and sipped. He and Don had both mixed some of the Cab in with their blood, but that didn't change the fundamental truth that what was in those glasses wasn't appealing to the three humans at the table.

"Something interest you, Agent Warner?" Larry asked, breaking into her thoughts.

Liz blushed and averted her eyes. "I just—I guess I'm still not used to seeing you and Don drinking blood like we drink wine."

"Ah," Larry said, a sympathetic expression on his face. "I will admit that I do not often indulge when in the presence of humans, but as you, Charlie and Alan are aware of my … predilections … I find it rather refreshing to be free to do so."

Liz tiled her head, trying to untwist that in her mind. Charlie glanced at Larry, then turned his smile on her. "What Larry is trying to say is that he likes drinking blood in front of you."

"Besides," Don said, nudging her elbow with his, "I thought you liked it when I drank blood."

Liz's head whipped around, eyes wide, heart rate slightly elevated at the implications of his statement. Don chuckled at her reaction, and she narrowed her eyes.

"You know, for someone who doesn’t much like being a vampire, you sure do enjoy the benefits."

Don shrugged. "If you can't beat them, join them."

Liz shook her head, returning her attention to the lasagna.

"Time was," Alan said when the silence stretched a bit, "vampires never drank their blood pre-packaged. They preferred to get it fresh. Of course, times changed, and it became harder to conceal that type of activity."

"Is that why Easton Services was started?" Charlie asked.

"In part," Larry said. "It was determined that having a vetting service for freshies was the easiest solution to the problem of the food supply in the modern world. And, as employees, the freshies are paid well to keep the secret. There are still vampires who prefer to keep their own stable of freshies, but most would rather leave the management of such assets to others."

"Not to mention the legal ramifications," Don said, lifting his glass in toast before sipping from its contents. 

Liz couldn't help but watch, her mind automatically supplying the image of him sucking fresh blood from her neck. Don turned his head slightly and winked at her, causing a blush to steal over her face. She cleared her throat, returning her attention to the discussion.

"Legal ramifications?" she asked.

"All freshies sign a contract with a strict non-disclosure clause," Don explained. "Plus, they're paid well, as Larry said. It isn't fulltime work, but they get benefits, and there are certain perks to being a freshie that you just don't get with other jobs."

"I'll bet," Charlie said, grinning.

"I doubt it," Alan said. At Charlie's confused frown, he went on. "Most vampires prefer not to sleep with their food sources. And of course, the ones who prefer their food not have a face at all simply pay for the blood to be packaged and delivered without ever seeing the … model that produced it."

"Well said, Alan," Larry said, lifting his glass in toast in a mimic of Don's earlier action. "And of course, there's also the Van Helsing network, for when one is away from home."

Liz frowned. She'd followed the conversation up to that point, having heard much of it from Don, but the Van Helsing reference brought back a piece of a conversation she'd had with Don the night she'd found out what he really was.

"So, wait, Don said something a while back about Van Helsing not being a vamp hunter."

"That's correct," Larry said. "Abraham Van Helsing was, in point of fact, one of the greatest vampire biologists in history."

"And a friend to vampires, back in the day," Don said.

"A friend?" Liz asked. "What about all that stuff Bram Stoker wrote?"

A disgusted expression crossed Larry's face before he schooled it back into polite disinterest. Don smirked, but otherwise didn't react.

"Vampires don't have a whole lot of respect for Bram Stoker," Alan said.

"Why not?" Liz asked. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I always thought Dracula was fiction. But now that I know … Are you telling me that none of that is true?"

"Since when is anything fictional, purporting to be true, actually true?" Charlie asked, a small smile quirking his lips.

"Okay, I give," Liz said, dropping her fork on her plate and sitting back in her chair. "What's the real deal with Van Helsing?"

Don and Larry shared a look, but it was Alan who started the tale.

"Stoker did get a few details right," he said. He pushed his plate away and lifted his glass, taking a sip of the wine before continuing. "Van Helsing was a doctor and a scientist with an insatiable curiosity. He was traveling in Eastern Europe when he discovered vampires. But instead of trying to destroy them, he sought to understand them."

"Van Helsing became our greatest resource," Larry said, and it was hard to miss the nostalgia in his voice. "Through much research and scientific study—at a time when such a thing was not even known, much less done—he unraveled the mystery of the cause of vampirism, measured our strengths and discovered our weaknesses."

"Did you know him?" Liz asked. At over four hundred years old, Larry had known a lot of historical figures that most people only knew from the books they read in school. It had amazed her no end to hear him talk about Galileo—his former mentor—and all that he'd learned from the man before his death.

"I met him once," Larry said, smiling. "I was still living in Europe at the time—in Paris, actually—when he passed through. He was old by then, but I remember thinking that even in the twilight of his life, he was still a vibrant man. A force to be reckoned with."

"So what's this about the Van Helsing network?" Liz asked.

"It's a network of safe houses around the world," Alan said. "Places where vampires can go when they're in danger, in need, or in unfamiliar territory. His descendants still run some of the first ones established in Europe."

"I guess Stoker got that wrong, too," Liz said. "I mean, it was a while back, but I remember that he'd told Stoker his wife had gone insane, and his only son was killed."

"Not killed, per se," Don said. Liz raised an eyebrow. "His son was turned. It's what got him interested in vampirism in the first place."

"Why didn't Stoker put that in the book?" Liz asked. "I'd have thought that would be the kind of detail a writer like Stoker couldn't resist."

"Stoker's main character was Dracula; his antagonist," Charlie said, frowning in disgust. "Van Helsing was supposed to hate vampires. Making him sympathetic to vampires would have undermined the whole plot."

"Huh," Liz said. She leaned forward, more interested now that she was getting even more truth. "So Van Helsing and his descendants founded a network of safe houses for vampires, and basically wrote the book on vamp biology. Anything else?"

"He started The Cleaners, one in every major city throughout Europe before he died," Alan said. 

In his youth, he'd been a Cleaner—humans who were called in to clean up the scene of a vampire crime in order to maintain the community's anonymity. He still worked as a dispatcher from time to time, and was considered someone the vampire community could trust when in need—helped in no small part by the fact that his son was now a vampire, as well as the fact that the oldest vampire in Los Angeles was a friend of the family.

Liz had been surprised to learn that he not only knew about vampires, but that his knowledge predated his son's turning. It was an eye-opening experience, hanging around the Eppes family, and she doubted she knew even a tenth of what they did.

"Matter of fact, that sigil you're wearing is part of the original Van Helsing family crest," Alan said, pointing to the pendant hanging around her neck.

Liz's hand automatically reached up, fingers caressing the small amulet, made of white gold and dangling from a leather strap. Don had given it to her during that first case, when she'd been in danger from the vampire community as well as the human vampire hunters.

"Don said if I ever had any contact with other vampires, besides you two, that wearing this would guarantee my safety," she said.

"Yes, that is one way of looking at it," Larry said.

Liz raised her eyebrow. She cut her eyes to Don, who sat squirming in his seat before returning to pin Larry with a glare. "One way?"

Larry merely gave her a serene smile, totally unaffected by the intensity of her gaze. "Yes. Once upon a time, a vampire would give an amulet such as yours to a human … I suppose the proper modern term would be companion."

"And the original term?"

"Concubine," Larry said casually. "Or, if you prefer, a vampire's mate."

"Vampires don't take human mates," Liz said forcefully. 

It was a sore spot between her and Don, even after they'd finally crossed the line from friends to lovers. He still had his doubts that a relationship could work long-term, and not just because she would age and he wouldn't. It still worried him that, in a moment of passion, he'd take too much and kill her. And thus far, the discussion on turning her on purpose was closed.

Charlie practically choked on his wine, while Alan's eyes danced with mirth. Larry's placid expression never changed, but the more time passed, the more uncomfortable Don became. Finally, Larry took pity on her.

"In the long history of vampirism, the only way to reproduce—that is, perpetuate the species—is for a vampire to turn a human," Larry said. "Many of those turnings come as the result of a romantic entanglement. Between the time they meet and the human is turned, the amulet would inform the rest of the vampire community that this human was spoken for. It did offer protection, as no vampire wants to intentionally cross another vampire by even so much as drinking from such a person. And as vampires are naturally suspicious of humans—many humans believe that vampires are best if dead, as you know—the amulet also serves as a sign that the human in question is friendly to the community."

"Huh," Liz said. She glanced at Don again, but he was looking away. Absently, she fingered the amulet, going over in her mind just what it might mean that Don had given it to her.

"If I'm not mistaken, Don, that's the amulet you received before your turning," Larry said. There was something in his expression that set off alarm bells, but it took a moment for the penny to drop.

"Kim gave you this?" she asked, turning to Don.

He shrugged, avoiding her eyes. "Yeah."

Liz looked at him for a long moment, not sure how she felt about that. She cared about Don deeply—probably loved him, if she were being honest with herself—but she also knew he hated what he was, hated that he hadn't been given a choice. But even before they'd taken that final step, he'd marked her. Hell, he'd marked her the night she found out what he was, but that wasn't a lasting mark. This was, insofar as she never took it off, per his request. That he felt strongly enough about her safety to give her the symbol of his true nature wasn't lost on her, and she finally understood what he'd been trying to do all that time.

Reaching out, she cupped his cheek, turning him to face her. She placed a chaste kiss on his lips, lingering longer than was strictly necessary, but she needed to communicate the depth of her understanding now while she could.

"I think I understand now. Thank you," she whispered. She pulled back and smiled at him, his answering smile tremulous but there. Turning to the rest of the group, she steered the conversation back to the topic at hand. "So, is there anything else I should know about Van Helsing? Just in case there's a test later?"

Larry chuckled. "I’m certain there is, however I believe that you know what you need to for now. We have entrusted you with many of our secrets. I'm pleased to know that you have protected them as if they were your own."

"Always," Liz said quietly. She reached out and took Don's hand where it rested on the table. "You've all taken me in, treated me like family. How could I do any less?"

Larry nodded, lifting his glass in toast before draining the contents. Conversation moved on to other topics, and she allowed herself to drift with it. But her hand never left Don's, and every once in a while, she'd feel a gentle squeeze. Her answering squeeze communicated with touch everything she couldn't say.

The world she was entering was wide and varied, and she had no doubt that she'd learn of greater wonders than this as time passed. She thought Van Helsing must have felt the same, all those years ago.

~Finis


End file.
